Mr Russian Whore
by threeletterwords
Summary: Mickey and Mandy have a heart to heart about boys, boning and fake marriages on the bathroom floor. Post 3x11 - Mandy's revelation about Ian/Mickey. Sort of the Milkovich equivalent of the conversation between Ian and Lip in 3x10.


A/N: So I'm fandom hopping all over the fucking place, and Shameless is my latest jam, so I hammered out a fic for the raddest of siblings. Really hope it's not shitty, it's like 90% dialogue, and largely unedited, but I was in a character mood. Please R/R y'all. :)

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Mandy stumbled into the bathroom, all red rimmed eyes and hysterical breath, a combination of booze and heels rendering her sloppy slow. She slammed back against the door, feeling behind for a lock as her eyes screwed shut, fighting tears, fighting thought, fighting.

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

Her face relaxed in surprise, wet eyelashes brushing mascara onto her cheeks.

"Mickey?" She asked, hooking her foot under the half open handicap stall door to reveal her brother leaned up against the grimy tiles. He glanced up then quickly down again, lighting up what looked like his dozenth cigarette that hour.

"What are you-"

"That god awful fucking party still going?" He cut in, like he didn't care, licking his lips hastily when she scoffed.

"You mean your beautiful matrimonial celebration? Yeah, Mr. Russian Whore, it's still going." She offered him two fingers, and he slotted the cigarette into them. She slid down the wall to join him.

They were quiet for a minute.

"I didn't ask for this shit show, you get that right?" Mickey said, still avoiding eye contact. Mandy blinked at him and Mickey exhaled hard.

"Look, I'm fucking trying, I just don't want you to think-"

"You think I give a shit about your bullshit marriage, I care about Ian, and only Ian. So if you could get off my dick and go apologize to him, that'd be great." she blew smoke at the ceiling, willing her eyes to stay dry.

Mickey recoiled physically.

"What cocksucking horse shit has that Gallagher cunt been feeding you, huh? You think I what? Shoved a rainbow flag up my ass? Don't believe everything your faggy boyfriend tells you, how about that." He made to stand up, but Mandy caught his wrist.

"Jesus, calm down, I don't care where you put your dick, unless you're slapping it against some hookers tits while my best friend is drowning."

Mickey frowned at her. "I don't know what you're-"

"Listen, Mickey, you've been hiding in the bathroom of your own wedding for three hours, and Ian's been out there drinking the fucking bar, you're the only two miserable pricks in a room full of people who are actually celebrating. And then Ian starts shouting about the guy he's been fucking and commie skanks and I'm thinking maybe you two boning would explain a whole fucking lot." Mandy stomped the cigarette into the ground viciously.

"Did he… did anyone hear him…?" Mickey asked, tentative.

Mandy snorted. "Your secret's fucking safe, you absolute jackass."

And then Mickey started crying.

"Holy shit." Mandy said, face lost in a mask of shock. "Are you-"

"You tell anyone, I will - I'll rip you a new asshole, I swear to god-" He rubbed angrily at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Mandy's face crumpled.

"Shit. I didn't think you cared, I thought." She paused. "This would be easier if you didn't care about him."

Mickey swallowed, his eyes red and his lips pulled back in an almost snarl.

"Who says I fucking _care_ about him?" He asked, stressing care like a dirty word. Mandy shuffled around to face him, suddenly resenting her monstrosity of a dress desperately.

"Says your stupid face." She reached out for his brimming eyes and he slapped her hand away.

"Fuck off" he muttered. Mandy reached in again, undeterred, and pulled her thumb away wet. Mickey finally looked her in the eye.

"I wish I didn't." His voice broke, and Mandy nodded jerkily, fighting the urge to wail and sob and pound on the shitty metal stalls because her best friend and her brother were so clearly breaking and she could hear their homophobic family whooping outside, celebrating a sham.

"Mick, I… I think you need to talk to him. End things properly. He's a wreck." She admitted. His eyes went dark and he bit viscously at his lip.

"I ain't ending things." He said.

She rolled her eyes. "Says the fuckhole at his own wedding to a _woman_."

"I _ain't ending things_, the only way I'm getting through this joke of a marriage is with him, okay, I need, I need…" his head rolled back against the wall, sentence trailing into choked breath.

"You need him, okay, I get it." She said, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Family affection wasn't in their repertoire, and comforting her newly outed brother about his secret boyfriend was so far from her comfort zone that she felt strangely naked. And sad, like it was her being left.

"I don't need him, fuck off, I just need. I need someone who gets what the fuck is going on in my head, and he, fuck him, he gets it. He's a whiny bitch half the time, but he gets me."

Mickey stopped and then angrily raked a hand through his hair. "I think I just grew a fucking vagina."

Mandy barked out a laugh and leaned into his side. She felt him stiffen, but he didn't smack her, so she counted it as a victory.

"I never would've fucking guessed about you guys. Ever." She said.

Mickey shrugged. "That's how we wanted it."

Mandy glanced up at him. "See that fucks with me. There's a _we_. Like. You and Ian." she said it like a headline, and Mickey glared.

"You want a boot in the ass?" He asked, eyebrows high and challenging.

"Speaking of 'in the ass'-" Mandy started, smirking.

Mickey almost smiled back, but opted for a subject change instead; "Why were you fucking crying when you got here anyway?"

Mandy's face dropped. "Lip. You." she said honestly.

"What'd that fucknut do this time, can I chop his balls yet?" He asked, and she smiled a little at his unwavering loyalty.

"It's nothing. It was mostly the you and Ian thing that got me-"

"Jesus, can we stop with the 'you and Ian', I came here to get away from that ginger prick" he lamented, lighting up a new cigarette with gusto.

"You realize this means we've both had Gallagher cock, right?" she grinned.

"I was trying not to think about it." Mickey said, shaking his head at his lap and trying not to smile.

Mandy knocked his shoulder with hers.

"It'll be okay, Mick. It's not like your bitch of a wife will want to stick around once she realizes how much you're not dad material. Ian'll end up in your bed again, and you can go back to not giving a shit and taking it up the ass."

Mickey didn't laugh.

"I don't think it's gonna be that easy, Mandy, I think I might actually have to be an adult here."

"An adult who hides who he is, and dumps on the only people who give a shit about him?" She asked, incredulous.

"I wasn't trying to dump on Ian, okay, I told him we could still bang."

"Okay, but did you tell him that you actually have some feelings for him, or that you definitely don't have feelings for the literal prostitute you put a ring on today?" Mandy's voice went high and loud and Mickey flinched.

"He fucking knows I'm… knows I'm a…" his brow furrowed and he couldn't finish.

"If you can't say it, he doesn't know it." Mandy said.

Mickey took a drag on his cigarette and shook his head. "Well. Too fucking late now. He's gone, I'm married, we're done."

"Yeah, okay, just do me a favour and work it out? Because it if it comes down to choosing I'm on his side." She took a final drag and stood up. "He said he loved you." Her voice was so soft he almost missed it.

"Like hell he did." He rolled his eyes and Mandy looked at him pointedly.

"Mickey."

His half smile froze, and melted away, his whole face going ashen.

"What the fuck what the _fuck_ is wrong with him? Fucking Gallagher ruining my life, fucking asking me to feel all the time. I don't got that luxury, why don't _you_ tell him that?" he said, and his voice shook and died.

"Mickey." Mandy repeated.

"I know, jesus. I'll talk to him." Mickey stood up to join her, dusting off the grime.

"Now?" She asked, and he scoffed.

"Not fucking now, Ian's trashed and I'm-"

"Trashed." She finished for him, smiling brightly again, giving him some major emotional whiplash.

"I just wanna do this shit right, because last time I tried we fought, and fucked, and fought again, and that was exhausting." He said, looking at her uncertainly, still a little unsure of how to talk to someone who _knows_.

"That sounds fun to me." Mandy smiled at him more softly, tugging on his hands. "Come on, let's sneak you out back, go home and practice how not to piss Ian off. I'll get him back for you."

Mickey gnawed on his lip again. "Thought you were on team Gallagher?"

Mandy paused, thinking for a second. "I guess I'm on team Gallavich. Come on asshole, we've got a room full of drunk shit heads to avoid."

Mickey stumbled after her, trying to keep the flush in his cheeks at bay.

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Reviews will earn you some tearfully whispered thank you's from canada, thanks for reading, dolls.


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